Small Sanctuary
by Soltian
Summary: Craig steals an abandoned garage, and decides to share it with one person.
1. Chapter 1

When Craig walked into Kenny's room after school, he wasn't in bed. At first it didn't seem like he was in his room at all, but then Craig caught sight of his feet sticking out from behind the bed frame, skinny ankles sticking out of the ratty orange pants he always wore. Craig shut the door and crawled over Kenny's bed, leaving his bag on the floor as he glared over the edge of the mattress. Kenny smirked back up at him from the floor, sleepy and at least a little high.

"You're so pathetic," Craig deadpanned, folding his arms under his chin as he got comfortable, "Is this all you were doing today? You haven't been to school all week."

"Yeah...I didn't feel like it. Anyone miss me, besides you?"

"I didn't miss you, asshole. I'm bored, and it's Friday, and my mom flushed my cigarettes again."

"Faggot's here to bum some fags, then."

"Shut your mouth, cocksucker. Just get me a light and put some shoes on. Let's go to the movies or something."

"You know we're dating, right, Craig? Going out on Friday night to see a romantic action thriller means we're dating."

"It doesn't mean jack shit. Christ, is that you? You need a shower."

"That's the house. I think the sewage pipe burst, again."

"That's even worse. Get up, wash your scrawny ass, and come out to the fucking movies with me. I'll treat you."

"Kiss me first."

"What?"

"You heard me. C'mere."

Kenny beckoned Craig with one hand, and Craig noticed that he still had his gloves on, and his fingers were shaking.

"God...you ODed, didn't you. What are you even on?"

"Some shit my mom had...expired painkillers, or that's the bottle they were in."

"I fucking hate you, Kenny. You're such a pathetic piece of shit."

"Get down here...let's just fuck, okay?"

"We're not having sex, we're going out. Then I'm going to kill you." Craig reached forward and grabbed Kenny by his sticky jacket, and felt an odd amount of relief when Kenny struggled, his bloodshot eyes narrowing as he tried to pry Craig's fingers loose.

"Just go out by yourself...I don't feel like it."

"Tough."

They strained against each other, huffing and pushing and pulling quietly. Craig could normally pin Kenny even when he wasn't an OD'ed mess, but he was at a really bad angle and lost his balance quickly, toppling half-off the mattress with his feet still up on the bed. Kenny got his arm around him and smirked right into his face, and Craig leaned back, breath hitching, knowing that any second now the bastard was going to start kissing him and his hands were going to start going places they had no right to-

Kenny sighed, and let his face fall heavily against Craig's craned neck, both his arms wrapping around Craig's waist in a warm, shivery hug.

"I don't want to go out," Kenny mumbled again, his damp lips brushing lightly against Craig's skin. Craig pulled his feet down from the mattress, deciding not to care when his legs ended up twined together with Kenny's. He put an arm around him, glared at the stained bedsheets hanging off of the mattress, and tried to ignore how tightly their bodies were pressed together, his pulse racing.

"Fine. You don't want to go out. What do you want to do?"

"Die."

Craig paused, an uncomfortable lump in his throat.

"We can...we'll just make out, if you want."

"Mmh."

"Kenny?"

Kenny was quiet for a few seconds, and Craig sat up, searching his still face, making sure he could still hear him breathing over the sound of his own harried (irritated) breath. He grabbed hold of Kenny's shoulder, and leaned in, and Kenny's face crumpled, his blue eyes slitting open in discomfort.

"I think I'm going to puke."

"Fucking christ, Kenny..."

Craig breathed a heavy sigh of relief, catching a bit too much of the scent of Kenny's hair. He smelled like salt and musk and something powdery, a hospital smell, but unclean. It didn't smell good, but it smelled like Kenny.

"We should get out of here. No one's going to be at the theater."

"Someone will. Just...god damn it, I really need to barf, and if you don't want it on your coat-"

"Sorry. Here we go, up." Craig grabbed Kenny roughly by the arm, and untangled his legs from the awkward knot they had gotten into. By the time he dragged him to his feet, he did look very pale, his jaw clenched. Craig didn't suppress a smile, and Kenny glared at him in response. Supporting his weight with a heavy hand around his waist, Craig got him to the bathroom in time for him to drop to his knees, grasp the rim of the toilet, and heave into the bowl. Craig tried to distract himself with the cracked tiles and the flickering light fixture, but he lost interest quickly. He sat down on the floor behind Kenny, pressed their backs together, and felt him shiver as he recovered from the heavy convulsion, heard him gasp in heavy breaths and then sniff.

"Shit," he croaked, and Craig looked over his shoulder to see him stripping off his gloves. He hadn't managed to miss them completely.

"They were old as crap anyway," Craig commented, shrugging. "Might as well throw them out."

"Might as well," Kenny mumbled, folding his arms on the rim of the toilet, and Craig felt him continue to shiver. It was annoying to have him so uncharacteristically quiet. Craig picked at a hole in the thigh of his jeans and ground his teeth.

"I know where we can go," Craig finally broke the silence, his voice deadpan and steady again now that he had figured out the solution. Kenny sat up just a little, voice still hoarse.

"Where?"

"Cartman's garage. Not his, but the one he found. He was all gung-ho about it being a secret base where he was going to have awesome parties with tons of chicks and stuff."

"Christ, I don't even remember. He raves about so much bullshit."

"Yeah, I don't think he even remembers. I thought it was kind of cool, though, so I stole the keys out of his locker. I'm not stupid enough to tell anyone, so you'd better not."

"I won't."

"I'm serious. You're a fucking blabbermouth, so don't ruin this."

"I won't, ever. I don't want anyone else coming. It sounds perfect."

Craig paused, not sure whether he could take his word for it. He tried to, though. He liked going there when he wanted to be by himself - he had put in a heater, a TV and VCR, an old sofa bed, and as much food and beer as he could smuggle inside. The electricity was still on because of a wiring fluke, the house three doors down (the only occupied house on that block) was unknowingly footing the bill for the dingy little garage that should be abandoned. He had made it his private place - but it felt all right to ask Kenny to come. Grudgingly, he could admit to himself that Kenny probably needed it more than he did.

"Get in the shower, then. I'll go look in your room for clothes that aren't orange."

"I like my clothes just fine," Kenny mumbled, finally flushing the toilet and starting to strip off his jacket. He wasn't wearing anything underneath, and the heat and scent of him came out fully in a wave of warm air. Kenny turned and looked over his shoulder at him, smirking. His eyes were even more red than before, as if he'd been crying.

"My mouth tastes like shit right now," he slurred, and that was all the warning Craig got before Kenny's hands were on his ribs, his skinny bare chest pressed against his as he kissed him sloppily. He did taste bad. He tasted like that hospital smell, and puke, and something very old. It made Craig think of rats, the graveyard, Halloween and something beyond. There was a book in Kenny's bottom drawer (the cover had been idly destroyed by razor blades and torched every so often) that was full of bullshit nonsense about monsters of the night and immortals and the "Elder Gods". Sometimes Kenny felt like that book, behind the smokescreen of porn and sex and drugs and vomit and laughter. The rats get you into the maze, and then you're lost - that's the end of it, over, blackness. Craig snapped himself out of it at the sound of Kenny undoing his fly, and he gasped, pulling back from the messy kiss and half-falling onto his elbow.

"Relax, you jumpy little bitch...christ." Kenny was smiling, and he didn't look nearly as pale as before. "I'm taking a shower. Go get me whatever you feel like dressing me up in."

Kenny started stripping his pants and his frayed briefs off without a shred of shame, and Craig ground his teeth, hating the fact that he would rather stay and watch. It wasn't his body that was that interesting - Kenny was scrawny and short, and was always just shy of looking unhealthy. He just pulled off...being naked with more confidence than anyone really ought to have a right to. Showy, and arrogant, very, very arrogant. He'd watch willingly if he didn't have to deal with Kenny's shitty smirking and crowing. But maybe it'd be worth it tonight. Just to make sure the light hadn't completely gone out.

He let himself out of the bathroom and went back to Kenny's room, and rifled through his drawers to find something that resembled clothes. He found underwear, but other than that it was just a bunch of junk - old parts of motors, marbles, socks and gloves that were beyond destroyed. There were condoms that had expired two or three years ago and bottles of lube that were half-empty, right along with tubes of toothpaste and mouse droppings and a full rat skeleton. Disgusted, Craig shut the drawers and turned his attention on the closet instead, having a little more luck in finding a pair of crumpled and stained jeans on the floor and a polyester orange jacket hanging on one wire hanger, almost out of place in being right where it was supposed to be. Kenny did not own any goddamn jackets that weren't bright orange.

Kenny came back into the room as Craig was stretching and examining the jacket, thinking that it looked awfully new for something that Kenny owned, and Craig was unsurprised to see that he had already put back on his dirty clothes, smirking at him and his futile attempts to make him wear something that wasn't repulsive.

"Do I have to fucking buy you clothes, Kenny? Is that what it comes down to?"

"Hey, I've got no cash. It's not like those are any better than what I'm already wearing. Let's go to KFC before we get to that garage of yours, I'm hungry. Oh, and there's a bottle of vodka in a box under my bed, grab that too."

"Not that I give a shit, but should you be drinking anything?" Craig wasn't complaining, though, he'd just drink it himself.

"Now more than ever." Kenny pulled his hood up, effectively covering most of his dirty blonde hair, the visible locks of it sticking to his forehead, still completely wet.

"Fine, but you're carrying it. And no KFC, I want to get pizza. You got any good movies we can watch?"

"I have porn, Craig, that's about all my family ever buys that's worth watching. Unless you want to watch the Fast and the Furious for the eightieth time."

"Bring that, then, whatever. I don't have any over there, it might come in handy."

"If you want to fool around, you can just say so. I'm not going to hold how much you like getting fucked in the ass against you, Craig."

"Shut up. You're fucking sick, all right? Let's just go already, bring your backpack or whatever."

Kenny smirked, but packed a knapsack full of his bottle of vodka, some cigarettes, porno tapes, and a pocket knife. If it was anyone else, Craig wouldn't give a shit, but a knife in Kenny's hand always made him pretty nervous. He pushed the thought away and just picked his bag up off the floor, which was already heavy with a six pack of beer that was leaking condensation into his school papers. They went down the stairs and the house was dark and deathly quiet. Kenny's mom was in her room, doing who knows what, but his dad was on the sofa, flat on his back and staring at the ceiling. Kenny looked like he was about to walk by without even saying anything, but then he thought better of it, or worse of it, as it usually was with him. Craig stood at the door, jaw set, impatient, and watched Kenny lean over Stuart's tired, worn face, and whisper something indecipherable in his ear. He heard his dad grumble "no" in response, and Kenny's muffled giggle. Stuart groaned and Kenny leaned forward, forcefully grabbed the scruff on his father's chin and kissed him firmly on the mouth. It lasted only a second, and Craig blinked, not even sure what he was seeing, and then the moment was over, and Kenny was walking an even pace back to Craig at the doorway, apparently completely recovered from the mess he had made of his body before dragging himself to the shower.

"Come on already," Kenny said brightly, and Craig decided it did not fucking matter if Kenny thought it was okay to kiss his dad goodbye. Kenny was fucking bizarre, and there was no escaping that on a good day or a bad day. He shuffled in his pocket for his allowance money, feeling really hungry himself, and knowing that Kenny could eat like a horse if he let him. The air outside was cold and biting, and Craig sucked in a big breath, realizing his mouth still tasted like Kenny's vomit. God damn it. It was six PM and winter and fucking dark. Kenny was a few steps ahead of him and he sped up, catching up with him in two strides.

"This isn't the way to the fucking pizza store, Kenny."

"Yeah, because we're going to KFC."

"I told you we're getting pizza. I'm paying, so I get to decide."

"Nah. the guy who works at KFC owes me, so he'll give it to us for free. Don't get your panties all wet and twisted."

"Well you could have fucking said so. Owes you for what?"

"Not much."

"Kenny, seriously, what?"

Kenny flashed a grin at him over his shoulder, and it was _that _look, and Craig shuddered, swallowing thickly, his stomach twisting with too many feelings for him to pick just one. Scratch that, one was easy to pick out. Anger.

"What the shit...seriously, Kenny, do you have to be so disgusting?"

"It's not disgusting at all, Craig. You like it just fine."

"Yeah, but I don't like you practicing on every dick in town."

"It was just a couple of times, and I sort of like him. I don't dislike him, anyway. It's not a big deal just because everyone else thinks it is."

"It's a fucking big deal, you slut. How many diseases have you even got?"

"As many as you want, apparently, always coming to me with your mouth wide open and your legs spread. I can't help it if you're not the only one who wants a slice."

"You disgust me."

"Yeah, yeah. It'd be nice to hear the truth for once, you know."

"That is the truth."

"So that's why you show up at my house pissing your pants worrying about me after I didn't show up at school a couple of days?"

"It was all week- I was _not_."

"You were almost bawling. The look on your face was adorable."

"Shut up."

"Just tell me that you like me. Admit it. You more than like me."

"Why should I?"

"Maybe it's something I need to hear."

Kenny's voice hiccuped, and his brows furrowed, and Craig raised an eyebrow slowly, curious. Kenny didn't stutter.

"Want. I want to hear it."

Craig's lip curled, but he didn't feel like taunting him outright, for some reason. Besides. It was...kind of true, wasn't it? It's not like Kenny was asking him to say something that was a total lie. He didn't want him to die, at least. Not for real. But it didn't feel right, his stomach tightened too much. They were getting close to the KFC and there were a few people around. Not enough, but it'd have to do, in place of words. Talking was too hard. Craig grabbed hold of Kenny's arm, and Kenny paused, looking confused. Craig smirked at that, and breathed out a puff of steam before pushing Kenny up against the storefront wall, hearing the vodka bottle and the tapes crunch against the brick as he kissed him. He thought kissing in public would make him feel nervous, but all he got was a rush, pleasant and warm and energizing right down to his gut. Kenny took a second to register what was happening, but when he did he let out a pleased sound that was close to a chirp, and his hands fastened tight around the back of Craig's neck. His fingernails dug into his hair as he nipped and licked with an eagerness that bordered on obscene. Even trying his best to force Kenny's energy down against the wall, when he finally pulled back he felt shaken and overly warm, suddenly much more aware that he had just kissed Kenny McCormick in public, and someone might have seen. He shoved him hard on his shoulder, coughed, and glared in the general direction of anyone who might have been watching. Some girl he didn't recognize quickly looked away and kept walking, and he heard someone snicker but couldn't make out who. There was a hobo staring with his jaw hanging across the street, but other than that people were ignoring them. Kenny rolled his eyes, sighed, and patted him on the back.

"If you're going to start acting jealous, you can just tell me about it. Don't get all dramatic and then regret it a second later, that's not hot at all."

"Shut up. I just felt like it."

"Yeah, I get it. You don't have to confess your love in public, either, Craig." Kenny was grinning, and Craig scowled heavily in response. Kenny irritated the fuck out of him, but this was a lot better than earlier, when he was flat on his back, eyes dim, asking to die. He would rather fight, and bicker, and punch him in the dirty mouth.

"That was really nice, by the way," Kenny's voice was in his ear, heated and teasing, "You'd better be that hot for it when we're finally alone." Craig swung his fist, and Kenny skidded away from him on the concrete before the punch could connect, laughing. Craig had to hold himself back from smirking in return that time, even with hobo still staring at them.

"Get us some food already," he demanded, his demeanor back to properly imperious. "I'm waiting out here, I don't want to see or hear what kind of disgusting things you'll probably say to get it."

"You mean you don't want to get hard in public."

"Just get the food, Kenny. If you want to be alone with me that bad you'd better hurry up."

Kenny looked surprised for a second, then brightly pleased, and Craig heard him snicker to himself as he finally entered the greasy KFC. Fuck. He had forgotten to take any cigarettes from Kenny's room. He shuffled his feet around in his shoes, and rubbed his hands on the insides of his pockets to keep warm. Suddenly he was aware that the hobo from across the street was coming over. He had that dirty hillbilly look to him that Craig always reacted to with a mixture of disdain and, if he were to be honest with himself, just a little bit of fear. He tucked his elbows closer in to his body and glared at the guy, daring him to say anything. The guy was grinning crookedly by now, and put his own hands in his pockets as if to mock Craig and his attempts to get warm.

"Careful," he coughed in Craig's direction, and Craig stared straight ahead, refusing to acknowledge that he had been spoken to.

"Careful," he grunted again, more insistently, and his leer grew in intensity as well, "You know what you're dealing with, right?"

Craig glared at him, jetting daggers out of his dark eyes. He saw him recoil slightly, and smirked, satisfied with the fact that his gaze still had that much punch to it.

"Get lost," he said flatly, turning his eyes away with disinterest again. "Keep your sick thoughts out of my business."

"Just doing you a favor," the man grumbled, stepping closer. He was missing a few teeth and smelled like piss.

"Back _off_, shithead, I'm warning you-"

"Hey!"

They both looked over at the sudden bark. Kenny was standing in the doorway holding the strap of his backpack in one hand and a steaming carton in the other. The man backed away from Craig, suddenly meek, and Craig felt his skin crawl, the unreality of the situation getting to him in a bad way.

"Sorry," the hobo mumbled, when he continued to get nothing but glowering silence from Kenny.

"Fuck off," Kenny hissed, icy, and Craig actually shivered, there was a vile hatred in Kenny's voice he hadn't ever heard before, certainly never been at the receiving end of. The guy turned and slunk away without another word, and Kenny glared after him, face still twisted in fury. Craig peeled himself away from the wall, reached over, and carefully tugged the carton of chicken away from Kenny's bare fingers before he crushed the handle completely.

Kenny grunted, and let go, wrapped his arm tightly around Craig's elbow instead, and pulled him down the main street towards the alley shortcut they used to bypass the park. Craig didn't protest, and tried not to feel nervous. He thought back to grade school, to remember whose fault it was that Kenny and his friends always seemed to be in a shit-ton of trouble. He couldn't.

"Who the fuck was that?" He finally managed to ask.

"No one. Some shithead junkie, I guess."

"You didn't..."

"No. Fuck no. Not even funny, Craig."

"Well excuse me, you're going around handing out freebies to the guys at KFC, how am I supposed to know?"

"He hangs out with my parents or something. I have no fucking clue, okay? My folks know all the worst pieces of shit in town."

"Yeah, I get it. He smelled worse than your house."

"Tell me about it."

They walked in silence for a few more blocks, and Kenny's grip on Craig's arm finally started to loosen.

"Does the garage have any windows?"

"Not really."

"Good."

Craig saw a puff of steamy breath to his left, and looked over. Kenny was smiling again, cheeks red, looking ahead. He put his hand back in his pocket, and fiddled with the keys, smirking to himself. The rest of the walk was quiet, and they walked around the back without anyone noticing, slipping into the small door on the side and locking it behind them. Craig had padded the large door originally intended for a car to go through with towels and old pillows, anything that could help seal out the cold. The concrete floor he had covered with blankets on top of an old rug, and centered everything important around that area - TV, VCR, couch, heater, and food. Kenny whistled as he walked around, turning on the heater almost immediately before switching on the TV, letting random noise come out from some sitcom and filling the small space comfortably, obviously full-hearted in his approval. Craig smirked, and stood a little taller in response.

"Pretty sweet, huh?"

"Yeah, this is perfect! How long have you been keeping it a secret, you stingy asshole?"

"Just a couple of days. I had to wait for Cartman to forget about it, otherwise he'd rat on me."

"Yeah, he's a fat fuck, he'll totally try to get you arrested if he finds out. Before you ask, I won't tell Stan or Kyle, either. They don't need to know." Kenny sat down on the couch and kicked off his sneakers, pressing his feet up against the heater with a light hiss. Craig took his backpack off and put it and the carton down on the floor for them both, switching the channel on the TV so that it was a sci-fi movie instead. Kenny pulled his feet back up on the couch and pulled open the carton of chicken, ripping into a piece with his teeth without hesitation. Craig helped himself to some food and tugged the six pack of cans out of his backpack, dropping it on the couch between them.

"Must suck to know so many shitty people," he mentioned casually, and Kenny laughed in response.

"Yeah that's the understatement of the century. My parents are shitty people, though, so it only makes sense. Does your dad have any friends?"

"What? Of course, he has his golf buddies or whatever...people at work. I don't know, it's not like I give a shit about his friends."

"Yeah I was just asking because he always gives people that look, like he's better than them because he's tall and fat. You've got that look, too, you're just not fat. You're not going to get fat when you get older, are you?"

"Fuck no, my dad can suck it. You're not going to be a worthless drunk when you get older, are you?"

"Maybe," Kenny said, snickering, "Depends what other options I get."

"Depends on whether you turn out useless, that's all."

"Suck my ass, bitch. I'm already ten times more useful than you are. All you do is go to school, and you're not that great at it."

"Not going to school doesn't make you useful, idiot."

"Whining all the time doesn't make you a fucking hero, either." Kenny licked grease off of his thumb heavily, Craig caught himself getting distracted by the color of his tongue. Too much. Kenny looked over and grinned knowingly, and then he was too close for him to see. He pulled at his hat, nipped and lapped at his mouth and cheek without any kind of verbal warning or affirmation. Craig growled a little, and elbowed Kenny in the stomach, his fingers still covered in breadcrumbs and his mouth still half-full.

"I'm still fucking eating, you freak."

"I don't feel like waiting," Kenny responded dismissively, sliding a knee over Craig's thighs to straddle his hips. Craig felt an electrical sort of shiver go through both their bodies, Kenny buzzing energy towards him, through him. He held his breath for a few seconds, tense, then grasped the front of Kenny's jacket strongly, pulling with a rough motion that forced the zipper to split open, his face on level with Kenny's neck, Kenny's chin and cheek now nestling heatedly against his hair.

"Want me to suck your cock?" Kenny purred, and Craig scowled, hating Kenny for not asking jack shit and then suddenly asking things that didn't need to be answered.

"If you want to suck it that badly, go ahead. Don't talk about it, Kenny."

"If you want it, let me tie you up. I want to try that."

"Are you fucking insane? No. No way."

"I'll keep it loose if you want, I just wanna try it. Or we could just not fuck, you'd love that, huh?"

"There is no way I'm letting you tie me up. That is never happening." Craig tried to ignore the significant raise to his own pulse, and how heavy and eager Kenny's voice was starting to get. This happened the first time they had sex, too. Kenny asked, and Craig said no. Kenny asked again, and they started kissing, and without even registering what was happening Craig was being pressed into his own mattress, hearing Kenny's pants and feeling his hands all over him as he clawed _here_, bit _here_, pressed _there_, and forced him to come almost brutally, eyes wet, shirt between his teeth. Kenny was pulling something out of his pocket, and pushing Craig's wrist against the couch, and Craig snapped back to reality, even as his body started treacherously shivering in anticipation. He jerked his wrist out of Kenny's grip with a hiss, though he wasn't about to push him off entirely.

"I fucking said _no_, Kenny, stop doing whatever hell you want."

"You like it," Kenny purred, grabbing his wrist again, his tongue swiping obscenely deep into the shell of his ear. "You want it. Just give it up a little, Craig, I'm not gonna be gentler with your hands free."

"You fucking crackwhore, _you_ do that, not me, I always fucking tell you to stop-"

"God, quit your bitching for two seconds, would you?" Kenny's hand had found its way to Craig's crotch, bypassing the button on his jeans entirely and squirming in through his zipper. The discomfort of Kenny's skinny fingers squeezing his dick through his jeans and boxers sent conflicting shivers of anger and pain and, annoyingly, arousal through all his senses. He hissed, but said nothing, and Kenny kissed his neck with that same chirp from earlier. When Kenny pressed his wrist behind his back this time, he stiffened, but didn't lash out, and Kenny grinned into his face smugly, but said nothing. He looped the tie in his pocket around Craig's wrist and released his hold on Craig's dick so he could press his arms together behind his back, his knees wrapping snugly around Craig's waist as their chests pressed together, too. Craig felt Kenny's breath on his neck, excited and lively as he wrapped his whole body around him. The tie was surprisingly soft, and Craig managed not to think about what was happening until he felt the actual tug of the knot Kenny was making, and jolted, rubbing his wrists and palms together immediately in an attempt to get free.

"You piece of shit-that's too _tight_- I can't-"

"What, you can't get free?" Kenny's grin was almost impossibly wide, and he started nipping and licking at his face again, his hands pulling eagerly at his clothes now, undoing the button on his fly he neglected before.

"You _fucker-_you-said you'd leave it loose, Kenny, this isn't funny-" Craig leaned forward, heated, a surge of fury causing him to sink his teeth into Kenny's neck with the intention to rip. Kenny hissed in offense and punched him hard in the chest, and Craig fell back with a little blood in his mouth, chest heaving from adrenaline. Kenny said nothing, but grabbed Craig by the waist, and slipped off his lap with an ease that made the blood rush to Craig's head, and then back to his crotch. Panting, mouth wet, and painfully hard, Craig struggled to get his hands free from the tie, with absolutely no success. Kenny had never meant for him to be able to get himself out of it.

"Die," Craig hissed, thighs twitching as Kenny laid his hands on them, spreading them out so he'd have good access to him with his mouth. "Fucking go to to hell, Kenny, you sick _fuck_. Get this off of me."

Kenny shrugged nonchalantly, a smile tugging at his lips as he peeled back first Craig's jeans and then his boxers, snickering as he ran his hand over Craig's cock, his breath now brushing against the sensitive skin there.

"You're the one getting off on it, Craig. Ever figure I know better what you want?"

"Fucking die," Craig spat. He was shivering all over and he knew it, pathetically helpless as he watched Kenny between his knees, his bright eyes and tousled hair and quick tongue and - _fuck_.

"Say you want it."

"Get eaten by cannibals."

"Tell me to suck your cock, Craig. You want me to or not?"

"I want you to fucking untie me."

"Tough shit, I like it like this." Kenny lapped at the side of his head after saying that, and Craig's chest seized up, his hips giving an involuntary jerk towards the open heat of Kenny's mouth. Kenny drew away, licking his lips, and the cold air that brushed over his cock in his absence was intolerable.

"If...you keep me waiting...one more second..."

Kenny made a satisfied sound and moved forward, and half of his cock was in Kenny's mouth before he even had time to think. Shit. Shit shit shit. There _was_ something to this - the irresistible heat and pressure while he couldn't move his arms - couldn't do much of anything, really. He just had to sit there and watch and feel Kenny work and he was deeper in now and part of his cock was in Kenny's throat and his hands were around him, too, tight and just as eager -

"S-stop-...hold on a second." Craig heard himself whimper, his breath short, body shivering. Kenny drew his mouth off of his cock wetly and licked his lips, still stroking his damp length lazily. Craig took in deep breaths, trying to gather himself, trying to think, and it just wasn't working.

"S'matter?" Kenny asked thickly, smirking as he gave the flushed head of his cock another light lap with his tongue. Craig shivered again, and shook his head, his voice refused to work.

"You're such a fucking bitch," Kenny said affectionately, and pulled hard on Craig's hips, sliding him towards the edge of the couch a little more. Craig felt himself slip down against the cushions with a slightly panicked jolt - with his arms tied fast behind him half of his back sunk into the seat of the couch, and Kenny was standing up now, starting to make quick work of peeling his jeans off entirely.

"No," he finally hissed out, and kicked Kenny in the chest to hold him off, "I don't want to do it like this. Untie me first."

"That would defeat the whole point, genius," Kenny snorted, shoved aside Craig's foot, and ran his hands over the pale skin of Craig's thighs. "I want to fuck you when you're tied up. I'll take it off after." He started rummaging in his pocket again, and Craig's throat stuck. He could see his own chest, still covered by his jacket and t-shirt, and his painfully erect cock, flushed dark pink and curving towards his belly. He had one foot still dug into the cushion of the couch and Kenny was half standing, half-kneeling between his thighs, and he rubbed slick lubricant between his fingers with an enjoyment that Craig always found both incredibly nasty and an insufferable turn-on. He tried several times to say something, but all his words seemed to get choked off in his throat, and he squirmed when Kenny started rubbing his taint with his wet fingers. His eyes narrowed into dark slits as he concentrated on not whimpering out of pure need. Kenny snickered next to his ear, and Craig had to put up with it because he couldn't just fucking hit him in the face with his arms trapped painfully under his back. Then Kenny's fingers were in him, and as hard as he felt himself start panting he could feel Kenny's breath coming just as fast against his cheek, against his neck, his free hand was tight around Craig's cock and all his fingers were rough and precise, pressing, rubbing, relentless and inhibitionless.

"Ask me to fuck you," Kenny whispered roughly into Craig's ear, and he felt a distinct shudder go all the way through him this time. He gave a growl in response, and Kenny punished him for it with a harsh press on his prostate.

"I mean it this time," Kenny said, and there was a hint of something more violent there. Through the haze of arousal and humiliation Craig got a slight chill in the pit of his stomach, recognizing the commanding tone Kenny had used on the man out in the street.

"Do it...Kenny."

Kenny's smile twisted, and he didn't stop, the rub and press of his fingers getting rougher, if anything. Craig had to bite back a whimper - he was either going to come or lose his temper and bite Kenny's face off, both seemed really fucking likely.

"_Shit_...god...fu-cking...fuck me, then. Kenny, _fuck me_. Is that what you want?"

"_Yes_," Kenny hissed, and his mouth sealed over Craig's tightly as his rough, teasing fingers finally retreated. He pressed both his palms down heavily on Craig's stomach, and Craig squirmed, his hips lifting involuntarily in response to the anticipation of having Kenny's cock inside of him. His breaths were coming short and harried against Kenny's tongue. He didn't have to wait long - one of Kenny's hands retreated, there was a muffled sound of his zipper, and then their hips were pressed together, Kenny was rubbing against him and then pressing tightly inside of him, inch by inch. Craig gasped, and broke the messy kiss apart. He was getting an unexpectedly painful spike in arousal when it finally all came together - Kenny fucking him, his arms trapped and bound underneath him, Kenny's hands on his stomach and chest and his mouth against his ear and cheek and _fuck_ his cock was getting so fucking deep and he just wanted to grab his shoulders but every time he tried he was reminded that he _couldn't_ - he couldn't move his arms, he was pressed tight and half curled against the couch and pinned by Kenny's weight and his heavy breathing, his red face, his crows and mewls of pleasure on top of him. He didn't realize he was about to come until he actually did, his body jolting and shocking with enough intensity that he stopped breathing, hips bucking an unsteady pace against Kenny's continued thrusts. He shut his eyes tightly, whimpered, and felt hot saltwater spill out of his eyes when he shut them, not even having the presence of mind to tell Kenny not to come inside of him. But that didn't matter. Kenny always came inside of him.

Kenny pulled out of him about a minute after he came, his cock trailing the sticky mess of fluid and semen that made Craig's stomach churn.

"I hate you," he growled, his voice having gone hoarse from whimpering and panting. He was still shivering, which was fucking embarrassing, but his mind had only about half recovered from the intensity of his orgasm, which, he said to himself again, had nothing to do with being tied up. He must get off on pure anger. "Untie me, now."

"Jesus, Craig...you are so fucking demanding. Suck my cock, fuck my ass, untie me, get my food, buy me fags - there's just no end to it, I slave for you day in and day out."

"You are. A useless. Prick. Shut your fucking mouth and untie me." Kenny snorted, but he was too tired to give his usual mocking laughter. He dug his hands underneath Craig's back, but couldn't reach the straps properly, so he had to shove Craig back up against the couch to give himself more space. As he took his time undoing the knotwork, he kissed his neck lazily, and Craig kept his eyes open as Kenny closed his, watching him with a mixture of irritation, exhaustion, and deep-seated warmth. Once his arms were finally free, Kenny pulled back, and Craig dug himself into the corner of the couch, rubbing his wrists sorely and glaring over at Kenny's sleepily smiling face. Once he estimated that Craig wasn't going to just start punching him, Kenny laid himself out on the couch with a heavy sigh, let his head fall into Craig's bare lap, and re-wrapped his jacket around himself.

"That was good. You gotta let me do that again, okay?"

"Not a fucking chance."

"You always say that." Kenny smiled, and his eyes were closed, and Craig glared down at him. He had a nasty comeback on the tip of his tongue, but held it back, because he didn't want to ruin Kenny's expression. He'd seen it a lot, but it was strongest after sex, an overwhelming combination of self-satisfaction and peace. He just didn't want to interrupt it right now. He placed a warm palm on Kenny's forehead, and brushed back the still-damp bangs that lay against his skin. Kenny opened his eyes sleepily, then closed them again. He didn't say anything, and Craig refused to. He let his attention wander to the TV, and kept his hand exactly where it was. After a while, Kenny was snoring lightly, and Craig peeled himself out from underneath him, and got dressed. He dug the blanket he kept in here out from behind the couch, and draped it over him. Then he pulled a piece of paper and a red marker out of his knapsack. He put the paper down on the TV, wrote "Lock the door" in large letters, and made sure the heater was turned towards Kenny's sleeping body so he wouldn't freeze to death. Then he turned off the light, left the TV on, and shut the door behind him, leaving the small sanctuary sleeping peacefully.


	2. Chapter 2

Hey everyone! This story is now complete, but will not be archived on FFN until June - because it's archived at the South Park Big Bang site instead!

[[ spbigbang . org ]] is currently hosting the rest of the story.


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